


hearts & bones

by settledthesun



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Eventual Happy Ending, F/F, Grief/Mourning, Kinda, Mentions of the rest of the gang - Freeform, eventual OT3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-28
Updated: 2014-11-28
Packaged: 2018-02-27 07:42:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2684780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/settledthesun/pseuds/settledthesun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>‘Danny?’ Your voice is hoarse and croaky and completely pathetic. </p><p>She turns back, her hand falling from the doorknob as she takes in your red-rimmed eyes and trembling grip on your duvet.</p><p>‘Don’t go,’ you say.</p><p>or</p><p>Danny is the only person Laura can handle being around.</p>
            </blockquote>





	hearts & bones

**Author's Note:**

> i'm the last two weeks of the semester and i have two literature papers due and even more reading, so naturally i spent all morning writing this.
> 
> title takes from paul simon's song of the same name

Clearly Danny had thought she would be the last person you’d want around.

When Perry suggests that everybody leaves you to yourself for a little while to get some rest (she invited Betty back to her and LaF’s dorm) Danny sends a last look your way before following the others out. She’s just about to shut the door when you speak for the first time in what feels like hours.

‘Danny?’ Your voice is hoarse and croaky and completely pathetic. 

She turns back, her hand falling from the doorknob as she takes in your red-rimmed eyes and trembling grip on your duvet.

‘Don’t go,’ you say.

‘Okay,’ is all she says, closing the door behind her and coming to crouch in front of you. She holds her hand out in front of you; an invitation. 

Danny sometimes has a tendency to be a little brash and assertive, or at least you realise that’s what your videos show. But you remember the times when it was just the two of you, talking over pie after class on a Wednesday, or sprawled out on her bed discussing Pride & Prejudice, and you know that Danny has the capacity to be impossibly gentle.

You let go of your duvet with your right hand and place it in Danny’s (the one that’s not caked in blood) and she rubs her thumb across your skin. The duvet falls from your shoulder and you shiver at the unexpected exposure. Danny grabs the fallen material and pulls it back over you. She looks up at you from her place on the floor and you catch her eyes fall on your cheek.

‘How about we get that cleaned up?’

It takes you a second to realise what she’s talking about, and then you remember the cut you’d acquired during the fight. You remember the blood running hot down your cheekbone. 

(You remember how any thought of your own pain disappeared when you made eye contact with Carmilla.)

You assume that Danny recognises the small jerk of your head as a nod, as she stands and makes her way to the bathroom and your gaze remains fixed to the floor. She returns with your first aid kit (thanks, Dad) and takes out a clean cloth, tipping a small amount of rubbing alcohol onto it.

‘This’ll sting a little,’ she says, and you don’t respond.

She reaches up and gently takes your chin between her thumb and forefinger, dipping your head so that you’re looking at her face. She gives you the smallest, softest hint of a smile and brings the cloth to your cut. It does sting, but you’ve been through much worse in the last day.

Danny spends the next few minutes making sure you’re cleaned up, before taking everything back into the bathroom, returning to stand awkwardly in front of you.

‘You should try and get some sleep.’

‘I won’t be able to.’

‘Laura, you’re clearly exhausted, you should at least try.’

‘No.’

Danny sighs, dropping down onto the bed beside you, not touching you, but close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from her.

‘You’re going to do yourself damage if you don’t give your body what it needs,’

‘I don’t care.’

You can tell she wants to argue with you, that she wants you to do what’s best, but it’s clear you’re in a fragile state, and she’s terrified of breaking you.

‘Okay, how about this: you lie down and if you can’t fall asleep, that’s fine, but if you do that’s fine too. Yeah?’

You turn your head for the first time, taking in her hopeful expression and you realise how badly she wants you to be okay. You relent, nodding and taking the duvet from around your shoulders to pull it over yourself as you lie down.

Danny stands, pulling your chair away from desk and turning it to face you. She sits down and it’s almost comical how much her legs need to sprawl out in front of her in order to accommodate her height. After a second, however, you realise what she’s done.

‘Danny?’

‘Hmm.’

‘What are you doing?’

‘Oh, um. I was going to stay for a little bit if that’s okay. Make sure everything was okay.’

‘No. I mean, yes, that’s fine. But what are you doing on that.’

‘Well, you know, I figured you wouldn’t want me to-,’ she nods her head in the direction of the other bed, and you refuse to look over at it.

‘Your legs will cramp up.’

‘I’m eighty percent sure I have a broken nose, I think I can probably cope for a little while.’

‘Don’t be an idiot,’ you say, shuffling back a little before patting the space beside you.

You catch Danny tense a little as she says, ‘are you sure? I’m fine here, really.’

You don’t say it again, just close your eyes tightly and wish this wasn’t your life. You’ve been fighting tears for what feels like years, and you know it’s a battle you’re slowly losing.

You hear the squeak of the wheels from your chair and, in what you assume is no more than two strides, Danny reaches the bed. You feel the mattress dip as lies down beside you. 

You open your eyes and realise you’re grateful that you offered this side of the bed, as she’s blocking your view of the other side of the room. Looking up into the familiar blue of her eyes, though, you realise you’re even more grateful that she’s here with you. That despite the terrible, terrible things to have happened in the last twenty four hours, in the last few weeks and months, you’re grateful that she’s here with you, living, breathing and caring.

She’s on her back, her neck craning as she turns to look at you.

Neither of you say anything, and you’re reminded of all the times you had both spent in her room in the first few months of the semester. She had her own room in the Summer Society house, which meant you could talk and laugh for hours without being interrupted.

(You remember how you had brought coffee for her (hot cocoa for you) one day after class and she had clutched her hand to her heart dramatically and said, ‘allow me to tell you, dearest Laura, how ardently I admire and love you!’ You and laughed and shoved her arm in an attempt to fight off your blush.

You remember the time you’d waited in her room for her to return from a track session, and she’d returned, panting and sweaty, grinning when she caught sight of you, before dropping a kiss to your cheek and announcing she was gonna jump in the shower and then you could go eat.

You remember the time you’d got caught in a sudden downpour on your way over, and when you dragged yourself into her room (she always told you there was no need to knock) she had immediately jumped up, offering you a bunch of towels, and ten minutes later you were watching a movie on her laptop, head on her shoulder, and bundled up in an oversized Summer Society hoodie.)

It’s this reminder of what was, what could have been, and what is, that expels the last of your strength, and the next second you find yourself clutching to Danny’s bloodied shirt, crying loudly into her neck.

‘Oh, Laura,’ she says, turning to face you and bundling you up into her arms. Her good hand runs its fingers through your hair and you’re reminded of the time Carmilla did the same after your nightmare and you just cry even harder.

 

When you next open your eyes, you realise you must have exhausted yourself and fallen asleep somewhere between tears, because you can hear the tell-tale sound of birds signalling the emergence of a new day, and Danny is asleep beside you.

Her arms are still around you, and you take the opportunity to take her in. Her nose is still bloodied and there’s a dark bruise forming on her right cheekbone. Her knuckles are busted and her lip looks swollen. You realise with a start just how young she looks like this. Not the battle wounds, but the unguarded nature of her sleeping state. You find yourself wondering what Danny was like growing up. But that only leads to you thinking about your dad, who has no idea his daughter was almost killed in a supernatural battle last night, which in turn leads you to think about to the Dean and her daughter.

(You lie there for another three hours until Danny wakes up.)

 

The next few days are spent much in the same way.

You don’t leave you room, and Danny all but temporarily moves in to watch over you. (Betty has found another room to stay in.) If it was anyone else you would feel like you were being babied, or you’d be filled with a sense of claustrophobia or frustration. But it’s Danny. And despite the differences you’ve had lately, you know she cares for you care for her and she sees you now as someone who can take care of yourself. But right now, you both know you need a little help.

So she makes sure you shower and change into new clothes and eat. She knows when you need distracting, and she knows when you just want to lie there in silence.

 

On the third day, you’re both lying side by side on your bed as you play with the hem of Danny’s shirt (the red and white baseball tee she wore in that first video). Danny’s staring up at the ceiling and you’re staring at your fingers teasing the material. She lets you do things like this without question, realising you take comfort in tiny, therapeutic actions. Suddenly you let go of her shirt, flattening your hand over her stomach and feeling the rise and fall as she breathes calmly. It calms you, feeling her here like this, but it’s not enough, and before you really realise what you’re doing, you’re slipping your hand under her shirt and doing the same thing again, but skin to skin.

You feel Danny shift as she tilts her head to look at you. ‘Laura-.’

‘You’re warm,’ you say.

‘Yeah.’

‘I feel cold,’ you whisper, feeling the familiar stinging behind your eyes again.

‘Trust me,’ Danny says, placing her hand tenderly against your neck, curling her fingers in the end of your hair. ‘You’re warm.’

You fall asleep like that.

 

On the fifth day, you kiss her.

You’d asked her if there was anything new going on around campus and Danny, sensing that you were after a mundane distraction, tells you about how ‘there’s this new kick-ass flavour of pie in the caf that nobody knows what it is but it’s weirdly addictive so some of the sisters have decided to investigate-.’

You push yourself up with your left arm and hover over her for the briefest of seconds before leaning down and pressing your lips to hers.

It’s soft and full of longing and after a second she kisses back. Her lips move against yours and for a moment you forget everything that’s happened, but then she’s pushing you away gently by your shoulders.

‘Laura.’

You kiss her again, harder this time, trying to feel as much of her as possible. She doesn’t respond, and pushes you away a little more forcefully, and it’s only now that you realise that you’re crying.

‘It’s not fair,’ you sob. ‘I care about you. So much. But-.’

‘It’s okay,’ she says, and you notice that her eyes are filled with tears too.

(It’s the first time you’ve seen her cry since the battle.)

‘I’m sorry,’ you whisper, over and over. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘It’s okay, it’s okay.’

(Nothing about this is okay.)

 

You had been worried that you’d scared Danny off for good, but she assured you that she just needed to pick up some clean clothes from her room and some food that wasn’t filled with polysyllabic chemicals, before kissing the side of your head and leaving.

You fall asleep again sometime after Danny leaves.

You dream of blood and death and screams.

You see the Dean standing over the battlefield.

You see Perry trying to drag LaFontaine away from the light.

You see Danny being choked by a vampire before bringing a stake to its heart.

And you see her. You always see her.

You watch, helpless, as she turns to you, her usual look of boredom broken by the resignation in her eyes.

(‘I really am starting to hate this heroic vampire crap.’)

You watch as she kills the light.

You watch as she falls.

You fall too, jerking awake with a gasp.

(Danny finds you mid-panic attack. It takes half an hour to calm you down.)

 

‘I miss her.’

‘Weirdly, me too.’

 

The nightmares are a regular occurrence, but Danny is always there to hold you close as you choke back sobs.

You’re honestly not sure how you would be getting through this without her.

You tell her this one night. She’s asleep, of course. You can’t find the courage to tell her these things while she’s awake. You feel like you’ll never be able to tell anyone how you’re feeling again.

But now, as you listen to Danny’s heartbeat while you lay your head on her chest, you’re momentarily overwhelmed by, well, Danny.

You raise your head to see she’s still asleep, her head tilted to one side.

You move your head closer to hers and bring your lips to her ear.

‘I do love you, you know,’ you whisper, before pressing a kiss to her earlobe, and another to her jaw.

You settle back into your position on her chest, thinking that, maybe one day, you’ll be able to tell her while she’s awake.

 

A week passes, and there’s no change.

 

On the twelfth day, Carmilla comes back.

Danny had to leave for the afternoon to TA a class, and you worked up the courage to re-watch your videos for the first time.

You’re just about to shut down your computer (maybe borrow Danny’s baseball bat to smash it to pieces) when you hear the door open, and the words ‘hey, cupcake’ make your hand freeze over the mouse.

You jerk your head round to the sound of the voice, and there she is.

She’s leaning against your doorway looking as nonchalant as possible, and she’s holding that fucking sword.

But she’s there. She’s really, truly there.

She begins to look a bit more uncertain at your lack of response.

‘I, uh. Sorry I haven’t been around. It’s kind of a funny story, actually.’

‘I doubt that very much.’

‘Right, well. You know how the blade was said to consume?’ She waves it around a little, as if proving a point. ‘Well, it did. Except it consumed me. As in, I was stuck in this goddamn trinket for days.’

You stay where you are.

‘Eventually though, it just kind of spat me out. Everything was hazy in there, and I didn’t know where I was or what was going on, but I knew I needed to get out. I could make out this shining light so I just, I don’t know, willed myself towards it. It nearly drained me completely.’

‘How did you do it?’

‘I guess I knew, or hoped, that I had something to come back for.’

It’s as if the weight keeping you frozen in place is suddenly lifted, and suddenly you’re in her arms and you’re crying and you can feel her everywhere.

‘You stupid, stupid vampire.’

‘I’m sorry,’ she says, and you know she really means it. She pulls back, taking your face in her hand and staring at you evenly. ‘And you were right. I do know.’

And then you’re kissing her and she’s kissing you and she tastes of night and day and everything inbetween.

At some point you move to the bed, her bed (it’s been untouched for weeks), and after what feels like forever you pull back, resting your head on her lap. She strokes your hair and you eventually stop crying.

You’re only interrupted when the door bangs open to a panicked looking Danny panting, ‘Laura, I just ran into LaFontaine and they said-.‘

She spots the two of you on Carmilla’s bed and mutters an ‘oh’, realising that she no longer needs to pass along her message.

‘Hey Xena.’

‘So, you’re looking…alive,’ she finishes lamely.

‘In some ways, I suppose.’

You sit up from Carmilla’s lap when you see Danny’s eyes darting between the two of you, and it fills your stomach with a sense of uneasiness.

‘Danny-.’ You start, but she speaks over you.

‘I should go. I’ll grab my stuff later.’ She looks at Carmilla and says, ‘I’m glad you’re not dead. Really dead, I mean.’

‘Me too,’ Carmilla responds, and you’re sure this is the most sincere you’ve ever seen them be to one another.

‘I’ll see you later,’ Danny says.

You leap up from the bed and grab her wrist, stopping her from leaving.

‘Wait. Stay,’ you glance between the two of them, Danny looking uncomfortable and Carmilla simply looking exhausted. ‘Carmilla clearly needs rest and I don’t want you to be gone. Not again.’

You all share a look, and some bigger meaning passes between you, but right now you know for sure that you’re too tired and relieved and happy to try and pick it apart.

So when Carmilla and Danny both nod, and you lead the latter over to the bed, you smile for the first time in weeks.

 

You wake up in the night, sandwiched between Danny and Carmilla on the much too small bed. You’re curled up into Danny, the smell of her lavender shampoo comforting you like it has been doing for the last two weeks, and her hand on the small of our back, keeping you safe. Carmilla’s face is buried into the back of your neck and her arms are around your waist.

You don’t know what this means, and you don’t know what the morning will bring.

But you know, with complete certainty, that right now this is exactly where you belong.

**Author's Note:**

> i apologise for the ending because it probably feels really rushed but i just wanted to get this out and OH GOD MY ESSAYS I HAVE SO MUCH GUILT


End file.
